Loni Willison, once a sought-after fitness model gracing the covers of numerous magazines, now finds herself living on the streets, often seen rummaging through dumpsters in California.
The 40-year-old, whose life took a drastic turn after her divorce from Baywatch star Jeremy Jackson, recently spoke candidly about her struggles. According to Loni, her downward spiral began after her tumultuous marriage ended in 2014.
In an interview with X17 Online in May 2023, Loni pointed to her ex-husband as a major factor in her collapse, accusing him of abuse. “My ex-husband. Getting married. At least I got divorced,” she remarked when asked about the cause of her homelessness. “He set everything up to do this to me.”
Loni and Jeremy married in 2012, but their relationship ended two years later, which left Loni grappling with mental health challenges, including depression and anxiety. Her struggles were compounded by addiction to alcohol and crystal meth, ultimately causing her to lose both her career and her home.
Despite receiving offers of help, Loni has turned them down, preferring to maintain her independence. She has been quoted saying, “I don’t need help. I have everything I need.”
Speaking to X17 Online, Loni revealed she is in constant pain, adding that she can’t live indoors due to a strange and intense physical reaction to electricity. “I was electrocuted every day for nearly a year, and now I can’t be near appliances or anything with electricity,” she explained. “I think because I pick up on electricity, I also pick up on chemicals, metals, and other materials. My body filters that stuff.”
She also mentioned the possibility of needing a detailed medical examination to understand the full extent of the issue. “It’s pretty intense,” she said.
In addition to her physical pain, Loni’s appearance has drastically changed. She has lost some of her upper front teeth and often wears worn, dirty clothes as she navigates life on the streets.
Loni’s ex-husband, Jeremy, has faced his own struggles. In 2017, he was sentenced to 270 days in prison after pleading guilty to charges related to a stabbing incident in Los Angeles. He has also battled addiction.
As for Loni, life remains a daily challenge. She struggles to make ends meet, relying on a shopping cart to carry the few belongings she still has, including food. The once-beautiful blonde model is now a far cry from her former self, barely recognizable amidst the hardship she endures.
I Came Home from Vacation to Find a Huge Hole Dug in My Backyard – I Wanted to Call the Cops until I Saw What Was at the Bottom
When I cut short our vacation due to Karen falling ill, the last thing I expected was to find a massive hole in our backyard upon returning home. Initially alarmed, I hesitated when I spotted a shovel inside, leading me into an unexpected adventure involving buried treasure, newfound friendship, and lessons in life’s true values.
Karen and I rushed back from the beach early after she fell ill. Exhausted but wary, I decided to check the house’s perimeter before settling in. That’s when I stumbled upon the gaping pit in our lawn.
“What’s this?” I muttered, approaching cautiously.
At the bottom, amid scattered debris, lay a shovel. My first instinct was to call the police, but then I considered the possibility that the digger might return, knowing we were supposed to be away.
Turning to Karen, who looked unwell, I suggested keeping the car hidden in the garage to maintain the appearance of absence.
As night descended, I kept vigil by a window, watching and waiting. Just as I was about to give up, I spotted a shadow vaulting over our fence.
Heart pounding, I ventured out with my phone ready to call the authorities. Approaching the pit, I heard the clink of metal on earth.
“Hey!” I exclaimed, shining my phone’s light into the hole. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The figure looked up, squinting. My jaw dropped—it was George, the previous owner of our house.
“Frank?” he stammered, equally surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here, remember?” I retorted. “What are you doing in my yard in the middle of the night?”
George climbed out, looking sheepish. “I can explain. Just… please don’t involve the police.”
Arms folded, I demanded an explanation.
“My grandfather owned this place,” George began, “and I recently discovered he hid something valuable here. I thought I’d dig it up while you were away.”
“You broke into my yard to hunt for treasure?” I couldn’t believe it.
“I know how it sounds,” George pleaded, “but it’s true. Help me dig, and we’ll split whatever we find.”
Despite my better judgment, I agreed. Over hours of digging, we shared stories, George revealing his hardships—a lost job and his wife’s illness. His hope for this treasure to change their lives touched me.
As dawn approached, our optimism dwindled with each shovel of dirt revealing nothing but rocks and roots.
“I was so sure…” George’s disappointment was palpable.
Offering a ride home, we filled the pit and drove to his house, where his wife, Margaret, greeted us anxiously.
“George! Where have you been?” Margaret exclaimed, eyeing me curiously.
Explaining the situation, George’s dream of buried treasure was deflated by Margaret’s reality check.
“My grandfather’s tales were just that—stories,” she gently reminded him.
Apologizing, George and Margaret offered to repair our yard. I declined, suggesting they join us for dinner instead.
Driving home, I shared the night’s escapade with Karen, who teased me about my unusual night with a stranger. Reflecting on our conversation, I proposed inviting George and Margaret for dinner—an unexpected outcome from a night of digging for imaginary treasure.
As I assessed the yard in daylight, I realized life’s treasures aren’t always what we seek but the connections we forge along the way.
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